


Vantage Points

by mdr_24601



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Arena (Hunger Games), Gen, POV Outsider, Quarter Quell (Hunger Games), The Capitol (Hunger Games)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 09:14:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24967294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mdr_24601/pseuds/mdr_24601
Summary: "Whatever," her brother said with disinterest. "They're just action figures. It's not real."How one Capitol girl feels about Panem's best and brightest: the Hunger Games victors.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38





	Vantage Points

Celestia trailed her fingers gently over the box, tracing the words with anticipation. _Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, victors of the 74th Hunger Games._

The dolls (“action figures,” her brother would insist) came out every year, one for each new victor. Katniss and Peeta had come as a set, but were the same price as only one, and Celestia was still marveling at the convenience. They were expensive, and she had been lucky enough to collect many of the more popular ones. 

Her eyes scanned the shelf of victors. Cashmere and Gloss on the far right, Enobaria beside them. Finnick Odair stood triumphantly with his trademark trident poised in the air. Finnick was especially difficult to get because he was in such high demand, but Celestia was able to get one. Johanna Mason sported a scathing glare and her axe.

Celestia was glad to add to her collection, because Katniss and Peeta were so popular now that anybody who saw the victors she’d acquired would be jealous. 

Her fingers traced the words again, this time continuing to the smaller label on the bottom of the box. 

_Property of the Capitol._

She was filled with an undeniable thrill as she unwrapped them. Katniss came with her bow and arrows, and Peeta didn’t come with anything, but that was okay. 

“Do you really still play with those?”

Celestia jumped at the sudden startle. Her brother, Cyrus, had walked in unnoticed. “Of course not,” she said stiffly. “I’m sixteen, I don’t play with dolls.”

“Then why are you unwrapping them?” Cyrus asked as he sat on her bed. 

“For my collection,” Celestia answered. She finished unwrapping and placed Katniss and Peeta on the far left of the shelf. “Why are you in here, anyway? Don’t you have your own things to do?”

“No, I’m bored. Let’s play Hunger Games.”

She furrowed her brows in momentary surprise. They hadn’t played Hunger Games together in years, but they didn’t have much else to do, and the dolls were right there. “Okay,” she found herself agreeing easily. 

Cyrus walked over to the shelf and surveyed the victors. “I’ll take Finnick.”

Ignoring the flash of annoyance, because Celestia had wanted Finnick, she grabbed Katniss from the shelf.

They battled it out for a while, Katniss’ bow and arrows against Finnick’s trident. The dolls were designed to imitate the actual victors, so Finnick could throw the trident and Katniss could shoot her bow. 

It was fine until Cyrus rotated Finnick’s arm back to throw the trident, but he must have rotated it wrong because his arm snapped clean off. Celestia felt an anger burn in her chest, because that doll was hers and now it was broken. Cyrus stopped her before she could say anything. 

“Whatever,” her brother said with disinterest. “They’re just action figures. It’s not real.”

Celestia rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t matter, you just broke it! Now my Finnick is ruined.”

Her brother at least had the decency to look guilty. “I’m sure it can be fixed.” He picked up the arm and tried to attach it again at the shoulder joint. 

“It’s not going to work,” she huffed. “You may as well leave it, it’s broken.”

Cyrus sighed and set Finnick back down on the floor. Without another word, he stood up and left the room. 

She tried to reattach the arm herself, but it was no use. The doll was broken, and she wasn’t sure if it could be fixed. She ignored the tears that welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill. Cyrus was right. It was just a doll; not real. 

Besides, she still had the other victors. And Katniss and Peeta, brand new and undisturbed, standing proudly on the shelf. 

* * *

“Happy birthday, dear,” her mother crooned. 

Celestia was seventeen, now, and she was celebrating her birthday in the second best way possible. 

“I’m sorry we couldn’t get Finnick to come to us, darling, but he was just so expensive,” her father said. “A tour of his arena should still be exciting.” 

And it was. If she couldn’t spend her birthday wrapped in Finnick’s arms, at least she could visit the spot where he took his shirt off to bathe in a stream. Or the spot where he made his final kill and became victor. 

“Yes,” she said with a smile. They were on the hovercraft, speeding towards the arena. Her chest tightened with excitement and she couldn’t believe that she was going to spend time in the same place Finnick Odair did, walk where he walked. It was thrilling, to say the least. 

They landed and exited the hovercraft, and she was there. The Cornucopia gleamed in the sunlight, housing all kinds of weapons. Tourists could act out their favorite battle scenes if they wished, but Celestia had never been one for fighting like an animal. 

“Oh, Celestia, this is where he made his first kill!” her mother beckoned her over. A wooden stake was planted in the ground, supporting a sign that described the kill. 

Walking around the arena was fun, but Celestia couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like if Finnick Odair were giving the tour himself. He was pretty at fourteen but gorgeous at twenty-three. She wondered if he might like her, and hold her and kiss her like she was special to him. She wondered if he loved anyone. 

Before she could get lost in her thoughts, her mother’s shrill voice spoke out. “Oh, I remember when he took his shirt off here.”

She glanced down at the fake blood splattered on the ground. If she remembered correctly, this had also been where his district partner had died from a mutt in the stream. 

“Honestly,” her brother huffed in annoyance from beside her. “Who cares about where he took his shirt off? I want to see where he made his final kill!” 

Celestia laughed. That was rich, coming from her brother, who she believed also had a small crush on Finnick Odair. At least, if the posters in his room were anything to go by. 

They made it to the end and she was almost disappointed, because the tour was over and the arena wasn’t all that special. Finnick made it special, but Finnick wasn’t there. 

“We can go to the gift shop,” her father suggested. “You may get whatever you want, Celestia.”

The gift shop was full of merchandise, including the Finnick Odair dolls. They were expensive, but her family had the money, and she needed to replace the one that had broken. She took one off the shelf and her brother selected a replica of his trident, and then they were ready to go. 

“I do hope you enjoyed that, dear,” her mother said. “Arena tours are such an enthralling experience, don’t you think?”

“Of course,” she said honestly, because it was incredible to be in the same place that Finnick had fought and bled and killed. 

She let herself drift off as her parents talked excitedly about the upcoming Quarter Quell, her fingers still wrapped protectively around her new Finnick doll. 

* * *

The announcement for the Quarter Quell was long awaited, and Celestia was eager to know what twist the Games would have. Her parents were hosting a party for the card reading, and she was surrounded by the sounds of excited chatter. 

“Gather around, everyone!” her mother trilled excitedly. The chatter hushed to a gentle lull. “The president is about to read the card!”

President Snow stood tall and dignified on screen as he explained the past Quells. Celestia hadn’t been alive for any of them, nor had she seen many reruns, so this was a new experience for her. The adults around her, who could remember the last Quarter Quell, seemed tense with anticipation. 

“Male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors.”

For a moment, everything was silent. Her mother inhaled sharply from beside her, and Celestia tried to ignore the unpleasant churning in her stomach. Hesitant talking broke out again as she attempted to ignore the growing feeling of unease. 

“Well,” her mother said breathily. Her voice only got high and breathy like that when she was trying to appear unaffected. “That is certainly an interesting twist.”

“It will make for an interesting Games,” one of her mother’s friends commented. 

Celestia tightened her hold on her champagne glass. “They can’t do that. They can’t send them back!”

“Those are the rules, darling,” her father said, a slight edge to his voice. 

“Those are our victors! They can’t take them away!” She was aware that she sounded like a child, but she couldn’t stop the whine in her voice. “It’s not fair!”

“Celestia, dear, quiet your voice. You’ll cause a scene,” her mother warned. “Why don’t you go to your room for a moment to calm down?”

Based on the incredulous looks the other people in the room were giving her, Celestia could tell that her mother was embarrassed by her. And she had every right to be. Causing a scene at a party was humiliating, even more so when you were the host. Still, she could tell she wasn’t the only one affected by the news. Her parents had pinched expressions and their friends were whispering awkwardly. 

“Of course,” Celestia said, being careful to soften her voice. “I’ll only be a moment.”

She made the walk to her room brisk, because she didn’t want to cry in front of all the guests. That would only add to her petulance, which was bad enough already. The first thing she saw upon entering were the dolls of the victors lining her shelf, proudly on display. She tried to imagine them all in an arena, fighting each other until only one was left. The thought caused her stomach to churn again, and for a moment, she was worried that she would throw up all over her pristine white carpet. 

Finnick, of course, would be her ideal victor. But that would mean saying goodbye to everyone else, Cashmere and Gloss, Enobaria, Katniss and Peeta. She didn’t like Johanna much, but perhaps even she would be missed. 

Something about the Quell just didn’t sit quite right with her, and she couldn’t figure out why. The Games were supposed to be fun, a festive celebration for those in the Capitol. The feeling wasn’t unlike the one she had when Cyrus broke her Finnick doll. 

The victors stood unmoving on her shelf, and what was once a source of pride now felt more like a mockery. In just under a year, they would all be dead but one. Gone, like the tributes. They were to be tributes again, but it was different, because they were the Capitol’s victors. They should have been untouchable, reliable pillars of strength and courage.

But that was what these Games were for, she reminded herself. To remind the Districts that even their best and brightest couldn’t win against the Capitol. It was a good thing, she reasoned, because there would be rebellion otherwise. 

Celestia glanced once more at the dolls lining the shelves and sighed heavily. While sad, it would be nice to see Finnick in action again. Perhaps he might even get to use a trident. 

And, if he won, she would have saved up enough money to visit him for a night.

**Author's Note:**

> A deeper look into the glorification of the Games and the victors. I chose Finnick as the main victor she likes because I feel like we, as a fandom, often tend to romanticize him and view him superficially. I wanted to explore the concept deeper, and from the eyes of a Capitol citizen. I've never written anything like this before so I hope it was okay. 
> 
> I'm not sure that I'm really satisfied with it, but I did want to post it. Thanks for reading, and leave kudos or comment if you liked it.


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